


starvation

by wajjs



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, of sorts (as usual)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 13:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs
Summary: Maybe it's a good thing his heart beat once and made it forever.





	starvation

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a mood that involved me wanting to write but the subject of the writing refused to be talked about in a direct manner, so roundabout ways had to be found.
> 
> It sort of worked.

There's this deep, deep hunger crawling in his stomach. Making his skin itch. Making his teeth bleed. There's this deep, deep hunger that he cannot shake away into slumbers unknown because it refuses to leave, it refuses to cease, and he does not want to miss the company.

  
  
The hunger keeps him awake. The hunger keeps him sharp.

  
  
Like those knives he hides in all the odd places: between his second and third ribs on the left side of his ribcage, beneath a femur, behind the shell of his ear.   
  
Sharp, like the things that come at him in the night and that he goes looking for at all times because with this hunger the sun never shines. Maybe it once did, back then, before the digging and the crying and the pain and the everything. Maybe it stopped the moment he came back and he's some sort of eternal twilight, the end that is doomed to never start and last only a heartbeat.

  
  
Maybe it's a good thing his heart beat once and made it forever. 

  
He falls into many beds and places looking for the shore of his horizon, someone he can set, somewhere he can shine. He's waiting but never patiently. He's trying to get it in his own hands and make a thing out of it. He still knows he's not going to succeed.   
  
He is cursed and there's no ship, no golden fleece, no island in which he shall be bathed free of an unspeakable kill. There's no redemption to make him a proper hero even though he's one in some ways. This is how he escapes the fate of many. When tragedy knocks on his door, he replies kicking.

  
  
You'll never make him leave.   
You'll never make him leave.   
You'll never make me leave.

  
  
The world isn't his for the taking and his hunger to devour what it has to offer will never be satiated.

On the brink of greatness, always. On the potential of a promise. Waiting for what will make him topple down again. Uncaring of it. He's going to make it back up.

Look at him, he's unstoppable.


End file.
